


The Horrible Inevitability of Being Alive

by SeCrFiDr



Series: Assorted Tales From Floor 0 [1]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Gen, dont come for me, ill go back and edit this eventually so, those character tags eh?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:40:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24503275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeCrFiDr/pseuds/SeCrFiDr
Summary: Tyler Blevins is alone in a room, and it's been this way for a long time.
Relationships: None, irl shippers DNI
Series: Assorted Tales From Floor 0 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1790542
Comments: 29
Kudos: 68
Collections: victors' tower canon works





	The Horrible Inevitability of Being Alive

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WreakingHavok](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WreakingHavok/gifts).



> thanks to the discord for being cool and shit. yallre inspiring
> 
> also yes this is 100% serious.

Tyler hasn't been called just _Tyler_ for a long time. The Capitol media never even mentioned his real name from when he won to when he rebelled. It was a weird feeling. 'Ninja' was just something he insisted his family and friends call him. And then, suddenly, he's known _only_ as Ninja. The fans that called him "Tyler 'Ninja' Blevins" made it feel even more awkward. It was one of the many reasons he rebelled, and one of the more selfish ones. Acting as a puppet for your fans is _exhausting._

At least, he remembers it being pretty exhausting. The room he's trapped in - complete with a bed, cupboard bathroom, and a wall-sized screen opposite the locked door - made it so he hasn't acted in decades. (Sometimes, he misses the sun. He's not sure what it feels like anymore.)

It made him want to scream the first few decades. All he ever wanted was not to be filmed, and y'know what, he got his fucking wish. The Capitol guards always tell him in their little speech before handing him his food for the next three days, along with a message about how his rebellion was futile. He memorized the speech by month five.

The Capitol always has something playing on the screen. On the off-Game season, he gets footage of Careers training, workers being punished, and sometimes footage straight from the Floors themselves. He hates it. It feels like invasion of privacy into people who had no privacy to begin with.

One symptom of this was that he got to know hundreds of people. The drawings are rigged, of course - he's not sure how much, exactly, but more often then not he can recall seeing quite a few to-be tributes on screen before they were chosen. Or maybe it's just placebo. He doesn't know anymore.

The streams during the Games are worse. An alarm alerts him right before a tribute dies, and he closes his eyes before he can see it happen. It's a respect they get from nearly no one else, and one he feels like they deserve. The fact that half of the screen is dedicated to the mentors is just... _cruel._

That's the genius of the Capitol. They make him suffer just the same as when he was a true Victor, but without any risk of him rebelling again. 

He's ancient history. He has been for decades. It wasn't unexpected, even before shit went down. All people are forgotten eventually; his family told him so. (Before, he feared this. Now he's just at peace with it.) They told him about the history before the Games - stories of oppression and rebellion, of warriors and soldiers of countries long gone. His grandparents spoke of horrors and joys, of beauty and ugliness, and he was enraptured. 

He liked the ninjas best. They can hide anywhere and kill _anything!_ It's the kind of person any child would want to be. During his Game, he hid behind it. He'll survive; Ninjas die on their own terms. He's gonna win and he's gonna be _game-changing._

It's ironic - Tyler's never liked self-fulfilling prophecies.

After the Games, his family would send coded messages in his chat. _There's a better way than this,_ they whispered. _The Games aren't needed for peace._

 _Rebellion,_ they screamed, and Tyler believed them.

Was that his fault? The fault of the Games? It's hard to have a complacent society when people still remember a time before government sanctioned murder of eleven to twenty-three children was allowed to be broadcasted on live television.

But still, it's been a while since then. Nearly sixty years, in fact. Enough time for those stories of the past to be warped to fit the Capitols propaganda.

He still thinks of his tributes. His first Victor - Mark.

He wishes he got more of a chance to say goodbye.

It's weird, to be honest. Tyler was raised to respect above all else. He was raised to _respect,_ goddammit, and then they put him in a tower and told him he was their puppet. Fuck that, right?

No, seriously, FUCK THAT, RIGHT?

The others agreed. Tyler definitely wasn't the first to think like that - Felix had made his thoughts clear to the others a great many times before - but he was the first to rally a crowd. Felix may have been the symbol of the rebels, but Tyler was the catalyst.

One of the worst parts of all of this is not knowing what happened to the others. Not a single one of the guards has ever answered his questions about them; he knows they never will. But still, he can't stop asking. To stop asking about them would be to give up on them, and that's one of the few things he can't bring himself to do.

He's Ninja. He can't give up like that. It's against his nature, and all he has left is his nature.

There's no respect here. Nothing left for him. The world has forgotten him and his floor, and he stopped being angry about that a long time ago. It's hard to stay angry for nearly sixty years. It's even harder to remember what it was like before.

Knowing that the world has forgotten them doesn't make jschlatt's win any better. Daniel's been erased for so long that they end 12's dry spell. That's just...it hurts, a little.

He still works out every day. It's a habit, and one that will most likely keep him alive for a few more decades. Tyler really isn't sure why he feels the need to stay alive, other than the meager amount of respect he has for himself. It keeps his mind sharp, at least. He'd hate to forget anything.

Deep in his mind, coated by Pete's sobs and Tiffany's screams, there's still a glimmer of hope. For revenge. For that golden uprising. It's childish, but he wants to see it. Maybe that's why he keeps himself in shape - so he can live to see the empire fall.

Because, well, there _will_ be rebellion. There always is. History is full of them, and even if the first one fails there will always be more to come. That's just how humanity is; tricky bastards they are.

The Capitol is a great many things. Cruel. Smart. Excitable. As mentioned before, forgetful is one of those things, and that will be its downfall.

Floor 0 has burned, and its ashes will make way for a phoenix. Felix's and Pete's speeches, Ian's programs, Tiffany's messages, Ryan's promises, Jenna's fashion, Anthony's melodies, Daniel's warnings - they were all the first, but they were far from the last. They've forgotten why the rebellion could rise in the first place.

Oh. Oh, he's so tired. 72 years old is nothing to shake a stick at. He's seen the deaths of 699 children, not counting the ones in his Game. He knows their names by heart. He has nearly nothing to do but know them. On their birthdays, he stands, back straight, heels together, and sharply salutes for ten minutes. They've overlapped such that sometimes he's stuck for an hour before he can sit back down.

For the Victors, he salutes their birthday stream all the way through.

Tyler will never be free of the Games. He was naive for ever thinking it. And so he waits, saluting with liver-spotted skin as another child is chosen to be in the Games, as another child is killed, as another child wins.

They're so young. How did he handle it? He's so old and he doesn't know how he didn't go insane. Maybe he did. After all, he stopped trying to escape by year five.

Sometimes he wonders how the others are doing. He hopes that they're not _too_ resigned to this life. He knows that it's probably too much to wish for, but, well-

He's never been good at realistic goals.

And so, he sits, or stands, or works out, always surrounded by the voices of the dead. Tyler knows he will join them soon, but for now?

All he can wait.

(Sometimes, in his dreams, he's surrounded by his floor. They smile at him, and call him Tyler. He wakes up crying.)

**Author's Note:**

> <3 please angrily let me know if u just felt things about ninja fortnite blevins

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [It’s All So Incredibly Loud](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28514094) by [akuli](https://archiveofourown.org/users/akuli/pseuds/akuli)




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